


On the road

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Holiday Friendship Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek have <i>earned</i> this vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetFanfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/gifts).



> Note: This is set in a distant alternate future where everyone lives (except the bad guys) and our favorite supernatural teens are now the grown up members of a supernatural secret agency.
> 
> And to Meeya - Your friendship through the years means the world to me and I really have no idea where I’d be or what I’d be doing online without your encouragement. <33

Part of being an actual adult, means getting to take time off when you've saved the world.

Considering how this is Stiles' sixth averted apocalypse in the past two years, he figures that he and Derek could use a vacation. Especially since the other half of their supernatural hero quad -- Scott and Kira -- had left for their own vacation the second that they had gotten the all clear from their superiors.

But Derek -- precious, grumpy, workaholic werewolf that he is -- doesn't see the point of going on a vacation just yet.  But that's what he has Stiles for, to remind him that there are more important things in the world than punching in the face of someone ready and willing to commit human sacrifice for a probably fictional god. (The kisses and other mostly tender moments that they share don't hurt things either, Stiles thinks. Derek may come across as rough and unapproachable sometimes, but he's really a big puppy when it comes down to it.)

"That Lovecraftian cult is still out there," Derek mutters. He glares at Stiles out of the corner of his eyes as Stiles makes to turn onto the exit for Scarborough, looking at him as if the frustration in that look will make Stiles turn the van around and head back to HQ in upstate New York. "Shouldn't we be working on taking them out for good?"

"Yeah, like I want to spend our only vacation working on a case that's as good as done," Stiles says easily, glancing at the rearview mirror as he slides into the right lane for their exit. "We're going to take some time off, Derek. It'll be good for you."

Stiles speeds up a little when he gets off of the exit onto a two-lane street that's old enough to have seen horses going up and down it, pulling ahead of a minivan full of kids dressed in soccer uniforms and a frazzled-looking lady that flips Stiles off when he glances at her van through the driver side mirror.

Laughing, Stiles takes his right hand off the wheel and gestures at the glove compartment. It's not the gesture he _wants_ to make or the person he wants to make it at, but Stiles is getting better at being an adult. Six years too late, but still… Late maturity is better than none at all.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and find the paper Lydia gave me with the directions?" Stiles asks, grinning at the grunt that Derek directs his way a second later. "What? If you're just going to complain the whole way there, you might as well make sure we don't get lost on our way to the house."

"I was asleep for most of the drive," Derek points out, "As a wolf in the back of the van. You're so full of it."

Stiles grins. "You wish."

Stiles pulls up to a stop in front of a stop light at an intersection that looks as if no one's driven by in days. He turns slightly in his seat, pushing against the seatbelt so that he can watch Derek flip through the papers in the glove compartment.

"If it makes you feel any better, Allison promised to call us in if anything weird happened in our neck of the woods." And knowing their handler and friend, she'd do it in a heartbeat. There's no chance in hell that they'll actually make it the full two weeks of their vacation without getting called in to handle something messy.

Derek actually smiles at that, a quick upward quirk of his thin lips that bares the pointed tips of his sharp teeth. "It does," he confesses. Just the way Stiles knew he would.

The light turns green sometime during that. Behind them, the soccer mom from before leans hard on her horn, noise blaring from her car with her impatience. Stiles doesn't flip her off in return even though he wants to, but he does get his own back in the most passive aggressive way ever.

It's a two way street, one lane going and one lane coming up until the stop light in the distance where it branches off into a wider road with the appearance of a small down and a cluster of buildings that're probably parts of a strip mall.

So Stiles goes the speed limit and not a hair above it. It's a slow speed limit and the van practically _crawls_ across the aged tar, creeping past spindly trees and light poles. The woman in the van behind them leans on her horn again and yells something at them that gets lost in the noise.

"How long do you think it'll take her to realize that she can just go around you?" Derek asks without looking up from the directions he seems intent on memorizing. "Oh, and at the light you need to make a left."

Stiles grins. "Hopefully she doesn't figure it out before we have to turn," he says. "Seriously, I get that being in a car with a bunch of kids is hard work, but I've had you, Scott, _and_ Kira in a car on the full moon and I didn't let road rage win." When the road widens, Stiles flicks on his turn signal and swings into the turning lane.

Of course, the light is red.

The soccer mom screeches by in a peal of squealing rubber, probably flipping them off one last time to show that she's an _excellent_ role model for the kids flinging themselves around in the back of her van, before she speeds on ahead. After that, there's no one around for ages. Even the parking lot of the strip mall looks deserted.

Stiles eases up on the break and then takes the turn, heading onto a true one-way road that overlooks a lake on one side and nothing but trees on the other.

"Are you sure this is the right way to go?"

Derek huffs. "You're not the one with the directions are you?" He pauses to glance down at the paper in his lap. "The house is at the end of this road at the left. There's a gate." He frowns. "Tell me you have the code."

Stiles can't even manage to _pretend_ like he's offended.

"Of course I do. After last time --" with 'last time' ending with Scott, Stiles, and Derek waiting for someone to come bail them out of the county jail after they attempted to get into the Argent compound without their gate code -- "Lydia made me memorize it."

He eases the car up to the side of the gate, rolling the window down so he can stretch one arm out and get at the tiny keypad embedded in the wall. He inputs the code as quickly as possible and then slides back into the car properly. Just in time for the gate to roll back.

The house is smaller than Stiles expected it to be. It's obviously one of the Martin properties because it's all but _dripping_ money, but it's small. Barely even big enough for Lydia's family to live in comfortably. No wonder no one seemed to care when she offered to lend it out to any agents in their group that needed some time off.

"This isn't exactly a beach house," Derek points out once Stiles stops the car in the driveway, frowning as he takes in the view in front of them. It's a really nice view, miles and miles of clear lake water and sand that will probably feel great underneath their bare feet. The sun is low in the sky in the distance, sinking low atop a bunch of great pine trees that look like they're about to be set on fire.

Stiles shrugs. "Lake house, beach house. All that matters is that we've got two weeks of vacation, a whole lake to ourselves for it, and directions to every single lobster dog shack in a ten mile radius." He pauses to look at the lakeshore in front of them. "You know what? I think I'm even going to try working on my tan."

"You don't even like lobster," Derek says as he gets out of the car. Derek stretches then, arching his back like a cat until his back cracks and he lets loose a sigh that should be illegal from how hot it is. "And you don't tan. You burn and wind up complaining about all your new freckles."

Stiles grins again. "I could learn to love it."

"And the tanning?" Derek comes around to Stiles' side of the car and opens the door.  He waits until Stiles turns his way and lets his legs dangle out the car before pushing in between them. Normally, Stiles and Derek are of a height with one another. Now with Derek standing and Stiles still mostly scrunched up into the driver's seat, he towers over Stiles.

Stiles reaches up and brushes his fingers over Derek's strong jaw, over the dark stubble that comes back with a vengeance no matter how often Derek shaves. He smiles.

"I'll let you rub sunscreen on me," Stiles offers. He licks his lips. "All over me."

Derek dark eyes flash bright for a second, a sure sign of his arousal. "Bribery, Stiles," he asks. "Really?"

Stiles laughs. "It's not like it doesn't work on you."


End file.
